


retirement

by hydrospanners



Series: renegade [24]
Category: Star Wars Legends: The Old Republic
Genre: And A Little Sin, Doc Appreciation, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Implied Sexual Content, Post-Class Story, Pre-KOTFE
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-16
Updated: 2018-04-16
Packaged: 2019-04-23 07:04:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,926
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14327160
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hydrospanners/pseuds/hydrospanners
Summary: After years of violence and chaos and fear, Jedi Master Nirea Velaran considers how her time might be better spent.





	retirement

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted on Tumblr.

Archiban’s office is exactly what she expects it to be. 

Plate windows sweep from floor to ceiling on the two outer walls, high enough in the tower to offer an almost dizzyingly spectacular view of Coruscant below. The two inner walls are paneled in genuine, organic wood shipped in from some luxurious garden world, and real, live plants spill over fancy-looking vases in every corner of the room.

On the far wall, a tasteful arrangement of Archiban’s various degrees and awards stretches from corner to corner. It’s only a selection of them, she knows. There isn’t enough wall space on this entire floor to hold the holos of  _all_ her husband’s various accolades, and that’s not even counting the achievements he was never officially recognized for. (Somehow, his best work always seems to go unnoticed by the medical community. She can’t imagine why.)

Rea meanders to the minibar, pours herself a little too much Corellian whiskey–-of course he has the good stuff–-and considers her options. Not that she really has options. She’s known what she had to do since she saw him in that conference room. Since she saw him with the Zabrak.

Two slow sips later, the door hisses open and Archiban steps through, already loosening the stiff collar of his fancy shirt. Weeks of hard work and sleeplessness are weighing on him, painting dark shadows beneath his eyes, but exhaustion has made him no less devastatingly handsome. She wants to devour him on the spot.

“Rea,” he breathes, freezing where he stands.

She reaches for the lapels of his lab coat–-damn if that thing isn’t giving her  _ideas_ –-and draws him in for a long, slow kiss. She didn’t realize how much she’d missed him, how much she’d missed that stupid moustache, until it was tickling her lip in exactly the stupid way she loves. She feels herself smile into the kiss like a fucking moron, but when he finally pulls back to breathe, he’s smiling the same way.

“Surprise,” she says.

He laughs and pulls her in for another kiss. It gets a little sloppy with the both of them giggling like godsdamned teenagers, but Rea’s never minded a mess.

_Stars_ , she makes herself sick sometimes.

Archiban doesn’t go far when they finally finish sucking face, one hand still twined in her hair, the other slipping from her cheek, following the contours of her body until it comes to rest on her waist. “What are you doing here, gorgeous?” He asks, just a little breathless. “I thought you were on comms blackout for another two weeks.”

“I missed you.”

“I missed you too,” he smiles, pressing another kiss to the corner of her mouth. “But you didn’t quit early just because you missed me.”

“Maybe I did. Maybe I wanted to make a dumb, romantic gesture.”

“That’s my thing and you know it. What happened? Is everything okay?”

Rea nods, stepping back out of his orbit. He’s too distracting when he’s that close, too easy to kiss. “Got the job done ahead of schedule is all. Nothing to worry about.” She can tell from the way his brow wrinkles that he doesn’t quite believe her–-for a man with the force sensitivity of a rock, she never could pull one over on him-–but he doesn’t press. “We can talk about that later. How’s the Zabrak thing going?”

“Not great,” he says, crossing over to the minibar to pour out his own glass of whiskey, significantly less full than hers. Rea joins him, tossing back half her drink in one scorching gulp. He doesn’t comment. “I’m mitigating symptoms, but Kumala’s running out of time. I’m not sure–-” He sips at his whiskey, and the shadows under his eyes seem starker somehow. She’s sure he hasn’t slept more than a few hours at a time since he got here. “I’ll figure it out. If that idiot Hettis can figure out Janaxian bird flu, I can do this.”

“Anything I can do to help? Something need punching, maybe? I’m really good at punching. Ask anyone.”

Archiban smiles. “Much as I love to watch you work, this isn’t the sort of problem you can punch your way out of.”

“Well, shit.”

“Thanks for the offer, gorgeous, but ol’ Doc’s got this one.”

Rea nods, letting herself be drawn back into his space. Talking may be easier when she isn’t touching him, but everything else gets easier when she  _is_. “Of course you do,” she says, toying with his lapel. “You’re the best doctor in the galaxy. You’re a thousand times better at your job than I am at mine.”

“How do you figure that?”

“Evidence,” she sighs. “I told you about that thing on Taris, right? With Watcher One? And about how I got Orgus killed? And of course you remember that time I tried to kill the Emperor. And the other time. No luck so far, but maybe the third time will be the charm.”

Archiban frowns at her, taking her glass and setting it beside his on the bar. “I think we both know you kept everyone in the galaxy from being devoured by a madman, so where is all this coming from? What happened out there, gorgeous?”

“I’m retiring,” she blurts.

He doesn’t even blink. “No you aren’t.”

“Yes I am.”

“No,” he repeats, “you aren’t.”

“Why shouldn’t I? The war is basically over, Archiban. I did my time. Why can’t we let the Order take it from here?”

“I’m sure we could, but that’s not the point.”

“I never wanted to be a Jedi in the first place,” she huffs. “I did it for Rhese, but he’s grown now. He doesn’t need his big sister watching over him.”

Archiban raises an eyebrow. “That’s debatable.”

“Archiban.”

“ _Rea_.”

She tugs hard on his lapels, feeling for all the world like a petulant teenager. “Would it be such a bad thing? If I wasn’t dragging us from one shithole to another, we could focus on  _your_ work.” He frowns again, his whole face scrunching in thought. It’s almost distractingly adorable, but she is a stubborn woman and she is going to have her way here. “I know you know how good you are at this. At fixing things. Don’t you think fixing things is more important than breaking them?”

He runs his fingers across his stupid moustache in that stupid way he has. She wants to kiss him again. She wants to tear that stupid, sexy lab coat off him and fuck him against the wall. Stars, she’s missed him.

“You are so good at this, Archiban,” she goes on, moving her hands to fidget with her belt so they won’t betray her. “Don’t you ever wonder what you could be doing if you weren’t chasing after me?”

He snorts, letting his hands drop to wrap around hers. “I know exactly what I’d be doing, gorgeous. That’s why I’m chasing after you instead.” She can feel the worry stirring in him like a storm, and the irritation beneath it. “You think I didn’t know what I was getting into when I married you?”

She certainly hadn’t. She’d been reckless and impulsive and damn near convinced that death would be doing them part in a few weeks’ time. But it didn’t. And now here they are.

“I don’t mean all this,” Rea gestures to the office around them, to the decadent views and luxurious furnishings, which they both know he is relishing while he can. “I just mean… What if we went where  _you_ chose? What if our missions were about healing people, about taking medicine and supplies to people who couldn’t get them anywhere else? I could help  _you_ for a change. I’m pretty good at handing you stuff.”

He smiles at that, a little wan but a smile’s a smile. “An underappreciated skill.”

“You have like six different kinds of forceps.”

“That’s just what’s in my emergency kit, gorgeous. You should see the selection they have here.”

“I can learn more forceps. I can learn about clamps and sutures and whatever else you need me to learn. You could take a break from combat medicine. Maybe cure some diseases, invent some vaccines. Do something intellectually stimulating for a change.”

Archiban shrugs. “I find working in live fire pretty stimulating.”

“Meatball surgery, you call it.”

“Necessity is the mother of innovation,” he says. “You’d be surprised how much of modern medicine was invented on the front lines.”

“You’re a xenopathologist, Archiban.  _This_ ,” she gestures to the wall of tastefully arranged achievements, “is what you planned to do. And don’t try to tell me you like combat medicine more. We both know I can tell when you’re lying.”

“Rea.” Archiban moves his hands up, gripping her firmly by the arms. “I love you. I love the life we have together. I don’t love all the things we have to do, but on the whole, I am very, very happy. So where is all this coming from? What happened?” He pauses, and she feels his sudden spike of fear as sharp and cold as if it were her own. “Are  _you_ not happy?”

She kisses him. It’s a bit too hard and a bit too sudden, all teeth and desperation, but she can’t give him the reassurance he’s looking for in words. She sucks at words. She sucks at words  _hard_.

“If that was supposed to be reassuring,” he says, because apparently Mr. Force-Sensitivity-of-a-Rock can read her mind, “you might need to try again.”

His eyes are glinting with mischief, but she kisses him again anyway. It’s soft and it’s slow, and she can feel his smile as it forms on his lips. Rea tangles her fingers in the silky strands of his hair, sighing into the kiss. It’s so good to be home. “Reassured?” She asks once she’s kissed him breathless, her forehead tilted against his, still close enough to feel that stupid moustache against her lips.

She loves that fucking moustache.

“You must’ve really missed me.” He grins that shit-eating, self-satisfied grin and she fucking loves that too. She fucking loves everything about him, and she missed him so much it hurt.

Gods. It hurt.

“I think I’m homesick,” she realizes. 

She’s grieved for her fair share of homes, for people and places lost to the violent chaos that’s defined her life, but this isn’t grief that's haunting her now. This is longing. This is how it feels to leave the people you love, knowing they’re waiting for you to come back. This is the ache of separation, not loss.

Archiban brushes her cheek with his hand, the strangest expression on his face. Something almost like wonder. “It’s just two more weeks, gorgeous. We’ll all be together again soon.” She leans into his touch, letting her eyes fall shut as she savors the feel of his skin against hers, warm and soft and familiar. “Until then,” his voice dips low, “I guess I’ll just have to keep you busy.” He kisses the place where her jaw meets her neck. Tugs her earlobe between his teeth. “Find some way to distract you.”

Rea tilts her head, laying the expanse of her throat bare for him. If she moans beneath the warm pressure of his kisses, who could blame her? He nips and licks and sucks in all the right places. “Do you have the time?”

“I have an hour.”

“Good.” She meets his eyes with a wicked smile, hands fisting in the white of his lapels. “This coat is really working for me.”


End file.
